


King of the Fall

by peterrrparkour



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), mob tom holland, tom holland - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, Smut, Some Fluff, Some angst, Violence, king of the mob, mob!harrison osterfield, mob!haz, mob!tom holland, spiderman far from home, spiderman homecoming - Freeform, tom holland - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-02 15:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterrrparkour/pseuds/peterrrparkour
Summary: Tom Holland, king of the mob, carried out his status perfectly. That was up until he got involved with Y/N, the niece of his most hated enemy, whom as much as he wants to, is the one person he can’t kill. Now he must balance his lust for her, and his desire to finally take down her uncle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is a bit of background/smut!

Tom leaned over his desk, angrily clutching tighter onto his phone, thinking he might snap it in half. He had enough of listening to bullshit excuses; he needed to make his capabilities known.

 

“How about you tell him if he doesn’t pay up what he owes me within 12 hours I’ll pop a bullet in the skull of that pretty little wife of his while he watches. And I won’t forget about him, he’ll be next right after her and anyone else he even remotely gives a damn about,” Tom’s voice rose louder and louder and he slammed the phone down, not waiting for a response. He had said what he needed to. He stood to his feet and ran his fingers through his glossy, hazel waves as he paced forward.

 

One after the other, he punched his fists into the durable wall, not even flinching at the pain he was inflicting on himself. He was only adding to his collection of different shades of purple bruises painting his knuckles. Tom had trained himself a while ago not to feel pain; in order to be king of the mob it was required that he couldn’t feel anything.

 

Haz cleared his throat nervously from across the room, reminding Tom of his best mate’s presence. He swiveled his head to glare at him as he grabbed his coat from the rack hanging on the bulletproof door to his office.

 

“I want this handled by the time I get back in the morning, Harrison,” Tom threatened, but he trusted Haz to follow his orders more than anyone, even his own twin brothers. He nodded back, his fear slowly dissipating; he knew Tom would never take his rage out on him.

 

Tom fled the house and ordered his driver to take him to his usual bar. In times like this, he picked up some girl, never the same one twice, and took her to his hotel room for meaningless sex. He found it helped him keep his emotions in check so they wouldn’t interfere with his work.

 

Tom pushed open the door and headed straight for the bar, giving the bartender a nod, signalling he wanted his usual. He wasted no time, scanning the room for the perfect girl. He knew damn well he could get any girl he wanted, so picking the right one was a game he loved playing.

 

His eyes landed on a gorgeous girl getting hit on by an out of control drunk, and he knew right away she was the one he wanted. He downed his drink in one swish and headed over to claim her with confidence in his strides. Tom gripped the man’s shoulder with his bruised hand and he turned to stare at him in awe.

 

“I think it’s time you get out of here,” Tom stated, clearly not a suggestion.

 

“And who the fuck are you?” he snorted, causing Tom to grin. He loved it when they didn’t know who he was; it made the next part that much more enjoyable.

 

“Tom Holland, king of the mob,” he affirmed his identity and watched with pleasure as the man’s jaw dropped to the floor in a combination of fear and recognition. He raised both of his hands in surrender and backed away quickly, deciding to just leave the bar all together. Tom turned his gaze back to the girl and wiped the grin off his face as his eyes bore into her. She crossed her legs and leaned closer to him, a small flirty smile growing on her cheeks. She met his eyes straight-on, not blushing and looking away like they typically did with him.

 

“You leave quite the impression, is this how you get all the girls?” she smirked, surprising him with her boldness. He didn’t back away, though, he only threw her valiance right back at her.

 

“There’s usually not this much talking. In fact, there’s no talking,” Tom spoke out, extending a hand as if to say he was done negotiating. Once again surprising him, she simply stared at his hand in hesitation. He raised an eyebrow, not patient enough to wait all night for her answer. She calmed his worries as she slid her hand into his and he led her out of the bar and to his hotel.

 

His hand gripped the door handle to his car and he motioned for her to get in first, showing at least basic manners despite his level of power. He slipped a hand to her waist conveniently to help her in, shutting the door behind him.

 

As they rode in the back, her eyes fell on his bruised knuckles and the reality struck in her mind. She wondered how many necks he snapped with those hands and how many times he’s pulled the trigger of a gun. She imagined those hands gripping the handle of a gun and pressing the barrel against her skull, but then shook her head to push away the thoughts and found a way to distract herself.

 

“So, are you not even going to ask for my name?” she teased, also prying a bit to figure out what his intentions were besides the obvious. Tom turned to face her, a little frustrated yet enticed by her outright bravery toward him.

 

“Does it really matter?” he asked, and judging by the look on her face it was the wrong response. He let out a loud sigh and caved in.

 

“Fine, what’s your name, love?”

 

“Y/N, thanks for asking,” she established, receiving a chuckle from Tom. He liked the way she spoke and in general every move she made was mesmerizing to him. He was forced to remind himself of who he was; he couldn’t let anybody turn him soft. He was going to have to show her her place.

 

When they arrived he protectively wrapped a strong arm around her, leading her up to his room; everyone they came across kept their eyes trained to the floor. The minute he opened the door, he slammed it shut with one push and shoved her body onto the king-sized mattress without warning. He crashed on top of her and she clung on to his collar with both hands, her breathing rate rapidly increasing at his motions.

 

Tom moved his lips to pepper her neck in soft, feathery kisses, and she smiled at the sweetness of his actions. He seemed to realize the gentleness of his movements, and he grasped the side of her chin with one hand, tilting her neck away for more access. His lips pressed deeper into her smooth skin and he sucked with intensity, not stopping to come up for air. Her head fell further to the side and she whimpered softly at his fierce pressure on her. He touched his lips all up and down her neck that by the time he began his next moves, her skin was littered in bluish-purple hickies that seemed to spell out his name on her body.

 

He pulled her top over her head, flinging it to the floor beside the bed, along with her bra. Tom took a moment to admire the beauty underneath him, before dipping down to caress her breasts again with his lips. He took both in his hands and pressed his mouth over her nipple, twirling his tongue over it, eliciting an erotic moan from her as she arched into him in an attempt to get more stimulation. He snickered at her neediness, the vibrations from his lips only pushing her closer to the edge.

 

He slid a hand down to meet her center, tenderly slipping his fingers in and out of her growing wet folds. He moved his touch slightly up to rub her clit at a steady pace, much to slow for her liking. Y/N tugged on his collar, urging him to speed up his movements, only causing him to pause and address her begs.

 

“We’re doing this according to my rules, or not at all, is that clear?” Tom insisted, and she nodded in agreement so he would continue. He leaned back to his knees and began unbuttoning his dress shirt, purposely taking his time with each one to drive her crazy. Her eyes scanned his exposed chest and she marveled at his ripped abdomen, wanting it desperately pressed up against her. The second he undid the last one, she tore the shirt off him and pulled him on top of her once again. Before he could make a move, she pushed him to the side and switched positions so that she was on top.

 

She started at his chest, nipping it with kisses and slowly moving lower. She opened her mouth to let her tongue slip through and she licked his abs, moving further down with each stroke, turning him on even more. Stopping at his v-line, she looked up to meet his eyes, asking for permission to continue and Tom quickly nodded for her to go on. To give him a little payback, she unhurriedly unbuckled his belt, making him wait longer. The king of the mob didn’t like to wait.

 

“Princess you don’t want to play this game with me because you won’t win,” he cut the bullshit, grabbing her chin forcefully so she could stare right into his hungry chocolate-brown eyes. She hid her smirks from him as she followed his orders, pulling down his pants so his hard member sprung out immediately.

 

“Aww, is this all for me, Tommy?” she emphasized his name in a sweet tone, when he knew she was far from innocent. Not responding in words, he dug his fingers into her scalp and pushed her mouth to meet his aching cock. Normally, she was one for quick, casual sex, but with Tom she wanted to make him feel good and special in any way she could. She lowered her mouth and began sucking away some of his soreness, a little surprised at the thickness of it. He used his grasp on her hair to shove her further down, but she was uncertain if she could make it all the way without gagging. Tom didn’t give her much of a choice, his pleading groans filling up the room.

 

“Please, baby, take it all in,” he begged her, and she didn’t think he was the type to ask for what he wanted so she tried her best. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let her sense of touch take over as she sped up her movements. She could feel how near he was to his release, so she moved her mouth up to twirl her tongue around his dripping head; he lost it at this.

 

He pulled her up before she could give him his release and swung himself over her so that he was on top again. He tore her skirt that was in his way easily with two hands and yanked her panties down to rest at her knees. He dipped his fingers in between her inner thighs to see if she was ready, and he smiled at her wetness pooled up.

 

“Who’s this for, babygirl?” he taunted, eager to hear her plead with him. She moaned sensually at his skilled fingers.

 

“All for you, Tom,” she played into his desires, and he bent in to whisper suggestively into her ear.

 

“I’m gonna have you screaming for me, darling,” he breathed deeply, and she whimpered at his sexy words, praying he would start already.

 

She couldn’t help but begin to squeeze her legs closed around his hand and she curved into his affection, soaking already for him. Tom didn’t wait any longer at this, and he lined up his cock with her slick entrance, and paused one last time to hear her beg. She wrapped her hands around his neck and cried out to him.

 

“Please, Tommy, give it to me already,” she groaned and squeezed her hands on the back of his neck. That was all he needed to hear.

 

She anticipated him to continue going slow and gentle, but instead he thrusted into her so roughly her hands moved downward to grab onto his back. Tom continued to pound brutally into her, so forcefully the headboard slammed into the wall with a bang at each thrust. Y/N screamed, just like Tom promised, and raked her nails across his back, leaving the skin raw. She swore the room shook at his intensity, the walls seemed to kick and she kept clawing at him because it was all so much to handle. He could tell by her pornographic moans she was incredibly close, but he wanted to wait it out a bit longer.

 

“Please, I can’t–” she began but he interrupted her pleads.

 

“Wait for me,” he demanded. She resorted to biting her lip back so much she tasted a hint of blood on her lips and she threw her head back into the pillows. Tom soon reached his peak and he finally let her go.

 

“Cum all over my cock, angel,” he commanded and she instantly climaxed. Tom’s name echoed off the walls at her loud screams; she clenched tightly around his member and that did it for him too. He came inside of her and collapsed onto her chest, dripping in sweat. They laid bare chest to chest as they rode out their highs.

 

After a minute or two, Tom rolled off her and layed next to her, breathing heavily. She set her hand on his naked, chiseled chest and nuzzled her head into him, almost forgetting she was cuddling up to a power-hungry murderer. Tom seemed to forget who he was with her as well, and he ran his fingers delicately through her velvety strands of hair. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes shut, focusing on the steady up and down rhythm of his breathing.

 

At this point, Tom should have pushed her off of him and kicked her out so he could sleep alone. But, as he lay beside her he felt something he never had before. He wanted her to… stay. Furthermore, he wanted her again and again. The thought of anyone else ever laying a hand on her made him feel sick to his stomach. His feelings made him vulnerable, and he knew he should follow his usual pattern.

 

Tom cleared his throat, interrupting her silence and she turned to gaze up at him wide-eyed, causing him to forget everything he was planning on saying. Instead, he did something he never had done before: he leaned forward to plant a sensitive kiss to her forehead. Y/N grinned and puckered her lips to press a quick, meaningful kiss to his lips and then she closed her eyes and continued to snuggle deeper into him.

 

He pulled the white, silky sheets over the top of her bare body and he kept running his fingers through her hair. Tom had no idea what was happening to him, but all he could admit was that when he was with her, he didn’t feel like a notorious leader of criminals. For once, Tom felt at ease, and he wasn’t ready to give that up just yet.


	2. King of the Fall pt. 2

Y/N shook Tom awake, the sound of his phone ringing disturbing their peaceful sleep. He groaned and shifted over to the side, before remembering all the things he had to take care of that day, one thing in particular especially bothering him. He lunged over her body to fumble for his phone, sliding it to answer.

“What,” he snapped, seeing it was Haz calling this early.

“Where are you, mate? You need to get here soon,” Harrison’s voice sounded like a contradicting blend of worry and excitement. Tom’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and his shoulders returned to their regular state of tenseness.

“Why? What the fuck is going on?” Tom demanded to know, a knot building in the pit of his stomach.

“Just get here, okay?” Harrison deflected his questions and hung up before he could get another word in. Tom tossed his phone a few feet away from him in bed and buried his face in his hands, tugging on his deep brown strands in frustration. She shifted the sheets to cover up her exposed body and sat up to meet him, giving his incredibly stiff shoulders a light, soothing squeeze. Tom let out a soft sigh, feeling some of his stress leave his body just by one touch from her. Picking up on this, she swung her legs over his to rest on top of his lap, and she leaned her forehead in to meet his.

“Is everything alright?” she tried to be casual and not pry, knowing his business was probably too private to discuss with her. Shock flashed across his eyes for a brief moment; Tom was never asked this question much. It didn’t matter if he was alright, because his personal feelings weren’t of significance. He had to put the job first, or he couldn’t have the job at all. His eyes fluttered shut and he slipped both hands to cradle her neck as he pushed forward to connect his lips with hers. After a few blissful seconds, he pulled away and moved to grab his belongings.

“Yeah, love, just business to take care of is all,” he murmured, scanning the floor for his shirt, softly smiling at the memory of her flinging it to the floor the previous night. Instead, his eyes fell upon her ripped skirt, and he tossed it to her hands.

“I’ll buy you a better one, promise,” he half-apologized, secretly pleased with himself. She grinned back up at him and let the skirt fall from between her fingers as she crawled forward on the bed to wrap her arms around his waist, pressing light kisses alongside his neck. His neck involuntarily tilted in the other direction, and he soaked up all her love so maybe it could stay with him when she was no longer there. His phone chimed again, reminding him of the busy, messy day ahead of him. Tom turned over to give her one last kiss, and she slid her fingers between his, not letting go.

“So… is this goodbye, then?” she pouted, believing this could be the last time she’d see him. At her words, he knew he should have cut her off there, saying the truth: he couldn’t form attachments and that they posed a risk for him. Alternatively, he said the words he needed to say.

“Baby, we’re not finished yet,” he smirked, backing closer to the door, slowly releasing her grip on his hands as he left without any other words of explanation. When the door clicked shut, Y/N collapsed backward on the bed, finally able to breathe normally again. Tom was so intoxicating she couldn’t rip her eyes away from him; she could never be happy with anyone else after loving him. All she could do was hope he found her again, in any way he wanted.

* * *

Tom swung open the door to his office, so roughly the doorknob slammed into the wall in front of it, where a hole already existed as a reminder of Tom’s constant furious state. In his office sat Haz, Sam, and Harry, whispering together intensely in a huddle. When they saw Tom arrived, they stopped speaking immediately and swiveled their heads in his direction.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Tom snapped, like he caught all of them with their hands in the cookie jar. They all exchanged glances, as if to say ‘no, you tell him.’ Finally, Harry was the one to spill the truth.

“It’s Adams, Tom… he– he won’t pay up,” Harry’s tone dropped to a mere whisper as the color drained out of his older brother’s face. Tom stayed silent for a few moments, pacing the space in front of his desk back and forth, before at last pounding his fist on the wooden surface of his desk violently. The sound echoed throughout the still room, all of them attempted to hide their flinches.

“And why the fuck not?” Tom required an explanation. They always had a reason, but it went one of two ways. It was either a beg, a plead for more time because they ‘didn’t have the money right now.’ The much more dangerous, yet thrilling reason was: arrogance. They actually dared to question the power and capabilities of Tom Holland. And he loved to show them why they were so, very wrong.

“He… he said, and I quote ‘I’m not paying Tom a single cent, and he can’t do shit about it’,” Haz chimed in, knowing Harry couldn’t bring himself to even repeat the sentence aloud. Sam stayed quiet, as he often did in these situations. Sam always got the job done, no questions asked, but was soft-spoken in heated meetings.

Tom’s jaw clenched so tight someone could trace every single muscle with their fingers, easily. He squeezed his fists together until his sharp fingernails dug so deep into his palms he was sure to leave bloody crescent-shaped marks, adding to his collection on his beaten-down hands. Tom’s hands told stories that his lips couldn’t bring to life; every purple bruise, every faded or fresh scar, all reminded him of the monster he had slowly become with each kill. He scoffed at his earlier wishful thoughts of a future with Y/N; he was truly beyond saving so he just accepted who he had made himself to be.

They expected him to have a screaming fit, to break the walls with a single punch, to grab them by the collar and slam them against the wall in rage. But, Tom did none of these things. He simply walked over to his desk chair, took a seat, and folded his hands together with a perfect sense of calm.

“Okay, why are you staring like that? We have a protocol in place for these things, you know what we have to do. So do it,” Tom phrased effortlessly. He shuffled around with a mess of papers on his desk that he had earlier thrown about in exasperation.

“But, Tom, it’s not that simple,” Haz continued, and Tom gradually shifted his gaze to lock eyes with his trusted friend. A cold, chilling feeling of dread swept through Harrison’s bones at the unfortunate news he had to break.

“And why is that?” Tom struggled to maintain his outwardly calm demeanor. Harrison stepped forward, running his also bruised hand through his hair.

“Did you mean it when you said… to take care of anyone else he gives a damn about?” Harrison’s voice wavered slightly, asking a pointless question in Tom’s eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“What the fuck kind of question is that? I said it didn’t I? Why would I say something I don’t mean?” Tom shouted, no patience left in him at how dragged on this meeting was going.

“Tom… he has a niece, and she’s young, can’t we just take Adams and his wife? She doesn’t even know about her uncle’s involvement,” Harrison pleaded, trying to appeal to any sympathy Tom had. But that was the thing, he had no sympathy when it came to getting double-crossed. Tom leaned across his desk, motioning for Haz to do the same.

“I. Don’t. Fucking. Care. Now, do what I said to do in the first place, unless that’s a problem?” Tom tested his loyalty, knowing he would follow his orders in the end. Harrison nodded, giving up his futile attempts to persuade Tom and made his way to complete his mission, Sam and Harry following suit.

The minute they left him alone in his office, his thoughts drifted from the endless tasks at hand. They lingered on her, on the way she seemed to bring out the kindness in him. Tom had thought all of his empathy had faded away long ago, but it was like she was there to show him he could be redeemed. But, only if he wanted to be, and at the moment, Tom had no idea what he wanted.

* * *

Tom’s knuckles rapped four times against the cool, metal exterior to one of the two rooms he had committed unspeakably brutal acts inside. Receiving the signal, Harry stepped out into the hall from behind the door, not allowing Tom in just yet.

“Tom, just try to think before you go in there. You don’t have to do anything out of pressure; we won’t think any less of you if you don’t go through with all of it,” Harry tried to warn him, but Tom just smirked and shoved past him. His heart beat rapidly, not out of fear, but with anticipation. Adams was going to learn what the Hollands were really about.

The room was pitch black, just how Tom liked to make his entrance. He pulled one of his guns out of his waist belt and tapped the barrel against the wall, his signal to Haz to turn on the lights. Bright lights flooded the previously dark room, and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. In front of him were three figures, each tied down to a chair bolted into the floor, all with a bag over their heads. One by one, starting with the culprit himself, he aggressively ripped the bags off of their frightened bodies. When he got to the last one, he paused for a bit, toying with the fabric material between his fingertips. He was eager to see this niece his companions made such a fuss about not causing any harm too. Smiling hungrily, he tore off the bag from her head.

Tom stumbled backwards.

No,  _No._

_Not her._

But of course, it had to be her. Fate had given him one diamond in the rough, one hope to become a better person, and now it was testing him. He couldn’t have feelings for anybody, because of this very reason. Y/N’s eyes lit up as she recognized him, no longer in fear for her life.

“Tom! Thank God! What the fuck is going on?” she gushed, as she rattled in her chair, expecting him to undo the ties. He couldn’t meet her eyes, not with what he had to do to her in mind. Her face fell at this, realizing after a few long seconds that he wasn’t there to rescue her. He was there to do the opposite.

“ _Tom?_ ” her voice shook ever so slightly, a single tear running down her pale, ghostly-white cheek.  For the moment, his only plan was to ignore her, to pretend she wasn’t really there in front of him. He instead focused on Adams, and fuck, if he wasn’t pissed at him before for putting him in this situation, he was now.

He strided over to him, thankful for the fearful expression encompassing his entire face. He should be terrified, if he wasn’t earlier. Tom’s mouth turned upward only a little, and he grabbed Adams by the collar, bringing his gun back before smacking the rough butt of the gun against his jaw. The smack resonated throughout the soundlessness of the room, making it even more terrifying. Dried blood caked the walls, all smeared in different patterns, another prompt of every traitor he had to make pay in the past.

Tom then moved back to Y/N, trembling as he lifted the barrel of the gun to her forehead, the place not even a day earlier he had pressed loving kisses on. She met his eyes, wide-eyed and innocent, pleading with him to see her for her. Her chin trembled and she closed her eyes briefly to try and stop the tears from streaming down. His gun clicked as he turned off the safety, eliciting a whimper from her shaking lips. Her sobs had grown uncontrollable now; she was beyond confused, all she could determine was that her family must have crossed him in some way and now she had to pay, no exceptions.

Tom’s finger wavered over the trigger, thoughts running wild. All he had to do was let his guard down and press it, he could deal with the consequences later. He closed his eyes and imagined pulling the trigger, but it only served to make him cringe. He didn’t want to do this. He  _couldn’t_ do this.

Taking a deep breath in, he cursed in irritation as he strapped the gun back to his waist, turning his back to everyone anticipating his next move.

“Knew you wouldn’t have the balls to go through with it,” Adams whispered cockily, sending a shockwave of fury through Tom, as he abruptly ran to where he was sitting. He no longer wasted his time with thoughts, he pounded into him, punch after punch. Blood splattered as his chin violently turned from side to side with the blows Tom was inflicting on him. Tom could have kept punching until he took the life from him, but he could feel Y/N’s eyes bearing into his back, praying for him to stop. Tom wiped the blood off his chin with his sleeve, throwing his head back to keep a stray brown hair from hanging loosely in front of his face.

“Get them out of here. Everyone fucking leave, right now. Everyone except her,” Tom spat, cocking his head toward Y/N at his last demand. Harrison and the twins quickly did as they were ordered, pressing their guns to Adams and his wife so they wouldn’t get any ideas of escaping. They fled the room, and took them to across the hall to the other space, leaving Tom all alone with her. Once the door clanged shut, Tom’s gun slipped free from his unsteady grasp and landed on the hard floor with a bang. He rushed forward, hands slipping behind her back to remove the restraints.

 _“Wait,”_  she whispered, and he stopped all his movements, now at eye-level with her.

She knew she should scream at him, demand to know why he had taken her family hostage. She should spit on him for even thinking about pulling the trigger, for putting her in a situation where he could’ve taken her life in one snap of the fingers. But, all she could see was the way his messy hair hung in front of his petrified, apologetic face. She couldn’t help but focus on the way his shirt clung to his ripped biceps, the buttons undone exposing a few extra inches of the smooth skin on his chest. She bit her lip to hold back a smile, leaving Tom stunned at her unusual reaction.

“You could just… leave them on,” she suggested, not daring to meet his eyes, embarrassed. His forehead crinkled up in confusion, not understanding what she meant by this.

“Why would I– oh…” Tom finally realized what she meant, a slow smile creeping onto his face as well. “You really want to…” he couldn’t believe any of it. How rapidly the mood had changed, from one of fear to one of desire. He carefully lifted a finger underneath her chin, tipping it up so she could look into his eyes, just mere inches away from each other. She could feel each individual breath of his hot on her skin, as she squirmed in her chair, begging for even one touch from him.

Tom observed the effect his close presence had on her, ashamed of his thoughts in a time like this. He should be coming up with a plan to deal with this situation, but he couldn’t think straight when she was near. He could only think about one thing.

His lips crashed into hers, the force of it wanting to send her backward but couldn’t move with the chair bolted to the floor. She pushed back into him with the little strength she had, and his hands crept up to grip the back of her neck, pulling her in closer to him. She broke away for only a second to throw her head back, sucking in a deep breath of air so she could continue. He only allowed her a second to catch her breath before his lips collided with hers once again, the room disappearing from her vision, the only thing she could do was feel. Feel the way his hands snuck down to her waist, tugging at the flimsy material in the way of what he wanted.

“Fuck it,” Tom whispered before tearing her shirt in two pieces, scattering them across the floor. She clicked her tongue at him, he needed to stop destroying her clothes before she had nothing left. He didn’t notice, though, his hands edged up from her waist, fingering her bra in his grasp.

“If you rip it, I swear to god,” she warned, anticipating his moves by this point. He smirked and snaked his hands behind her back, unclasping her bra and dangling it in front of her, then carefully setting it to the floor as if it would break easily. She rolled her eyes and shook her hands tied behind her, urging him to resume. He gently pressed a finger to her lips, letting her know she was going to be more than taken care of.

Tom started slow, his kisses dancing lightly down her neck, small moans slipping out from her in the process. He then picked up the pace, biting down on her smooth skin, as she let out a short, muffled cry. Using some of her tricks, he stroked a path down to her lower hips with his tongue, her legs drawing together faintly. His hands tugged on the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down to her ankles without warning. He looked up at her, pausing to check for permission to keep going, and she gave him a quick nod, his eyes charged with longing.

He seemed to kiss everywhere except right where she wanted him, so she nudged his head with her knee, a light chuckle escaped his lips at her neediness. Tom eventually leaned in closer, gripping onto her inner thighs with his rough palms to keep them from closing in on him. He began to please her, slipping his tongue between her dripping folds, and her hips bucked into him at his touch. He pressed harder with his hands to keep her under control, she struggled to keep still while he buried his face in between her thighs. He flicked his tongue up to her clit, twirling his tongue over her heat, and she couldn’t contain herself anymore. Her whole body shook and her wrists pushed against the restraints, wanting more than anything to grab onto his tousled hair, to do something, anything than just arch further into him.

“Tommy,  _please_ ,” she begged, not really sure what for, she just needed to say his name, and he loved to hear her scream it. He refused to stop, her begs only making him more determined. His fingernails dug into the skin on her thighs, leaving her body with more dirty reminders of what he could do to her, of what he could make her feel. Her hands clenched into tiny fists, she knew she couldn’t take much more of what he was giving. She let out a series of moans, each one louder and more intense then the last. Tom dipped his fingers into her, adding even more stimulation, and she let everything go at this.

He smiled at her reaction, continuing to feel her through her orgasm, until her head fell down to rest on her chest. Tom moved up from his knees to meet her eyes, slipping his fingers into her mouth so she could taste what he did to her. She sucked on his fingers, with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t decide if it was devilish or pure. He moved to remove his belt when a loud rap on the door, four knocks precisely, filled the satisfying silence between them. They both froze, fearing they were caught, and he quickly pulled up her leggings, tossing her bra back at her as he headed for the door, not realizing she couldn’t put it back on with her hands still tied.

“What do you want?” Tom opened the door only an inch to see what the issue was. Sam awkwardly squirmed in front of him, hating to have to be the one to interrupt Tom.

“It’s Adams… He wants to talk to you, to negotiate,” Sam murmured, barely audible under his breath. Tom flinched at his words, the last thing he wanted to do in that moment was pull back on his angry demeanor.

“Fuck… I’ll–  _be there in a minute._ ”


	3. Chapter Three

“So you fancy my niece?” Adams concluded the second Tom hurried into the adjacent room, equally as terrifying as the previous one. Tom attempted to act unphased by his assumption, clenching his jaw shut as he took his time striding toward the spot where Adams sat bound to his chair. Even though Tom had the upper hand, he always made him feel like it was the other way around, like he was still that scared child weeping over his father’s corpse. Tom had to momentarily squeeze his eyes shut to remind himself how hard he worked to bury that memory so deep, as if he didn’t wake up breathless every night replaying it in his mind.

“What? Her? She’s nothing but just a useless whore,  _like your wife,_ ” Tom spat out the words so harshly he almost got himself to believe that he meant them. Adams couldn’t help but flinch slightly at his insult, but quickly recollected himself, much to Tom’s disbelief.

“Why am I even here, Tom? Don’t you remember our… understanding? Because I remember, all of it,” his tone wasn’t in the form of a question, but a warning. Tom stumbled backward, feeling everything he felt in that moment like it was yesterday.

_Tom tried to stop it from happening, but he couldn’t move faster than the bullet. He watched, frozen in horror as the shot tore through his father’s chest, his only parent he had left. It was surreal, and hazy, like some horrible nightmare happening right in front of his eyes and all he could feel was helplessness. He fumbled to Dom’s side, clutching onto his chest, putting pressure on the gaping wound, but the only thing he managed to do was paint his hands red with blood. Tom was taught never to cry, never to show any sign of weakness, especially with other mobsters present. But he lost all control, forgetting the men behind him he had been ushering to his father’s office. He felt a sturdy hand grip his shoulder, pulling him off Dom’s dead body, telling him it was his business now. Tom had always been looking forward to the day he became king, but he never wanted it to happen like this._

Tom blinked rapidly, returning to the present, the man in front of him he hated more than anyone, who he would kill in a minute if it weren’t for their deal. Adams grinned hellishly, like he could read Tom’s thoughts without even having to try.

“If you really meant that about Y/N, you would have killed her. Guy like you, hundreds of kills on your belt, killing is like second nature. You shouldn’t have even flinched! You should’ve pulled the trigger  _without hesitation_!” Adams voice grew louder and louder, until it boomed throughout the room, so much that Tom pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the truth. He couldn’t even stand to be near him anymore; he turned his back to him, grabbing Haz by the arm and dragging him outside.

When the door clicked shut, Tom let it all out, finally confiding in Harrison the secret that had been tearing him apart since the moment he became king. Harrison grabbed onto Tom’s shoulders to keep him from pacing the hall; he had seen Tom at some pretty low points, but this was by far the worst.

“This is some serious shit, Haz,” Tom warned, but he knew if anyone could handle it, Harrison could. He locked eyes with Tom, letting him know it was okay to go on. Tom let out a shaky breath, and began to retell the truth behind the day he became king.

* * *

Sam stood next to his twin brother, Harry, trying to copy his movements and appear menacing. It all came so natural to Harry, the life of a mobster, but never to Sam. Sam’s eyes darted to the ground to avoid Harry’s questioning stare; they could always sense when the other was emotional without any words being spoken. Sam simply accepted the way his life was, but he always wondered what it would be like to be normal. Harry, though, never had a doubt in his mind what he wanted, and that was to take Tom’s place when he was ready. He completed every task assigned with a certain spark to him, whereas Sam struggled with even the simplest ones.

Sam coughed under his breath, murmuring something to Harry about something he had to take care of. Harry just nodded, they learned never to ask too many questions. And that worked well for Sam in this instance. Locking the door behind him, he peered in both directions, overhearing Tom’s voice that often sent chills down his spine. Part of him wanted to listen in on what he was telling Haz, but if he did that he couldn’t carry out his true intentions. He shook his head, trying to stay focused, and he dashed across the hall, sneaking into the room as silently as possible.

“Tom? What happen–” Y/N started to ask, until Sam stepped into the light to reveal himself. She paused, not knowing what to expect from him, or what he wanted. She waited for him to say something, but he kept quiet as he paced forward. Her eyes fell on his chest, the way it rose and sank back down, like she could count every heartbeat from where she sat. Sweat trickled down the side of his forehead, and he lifted his crisp sleeve to wipe it away, not taking his eyes off of her in the process.

He stopped in front of her chair, leaning down to her level, arms extending to grip both sides of it, like he was trapping her in with no where else to look except directly into his eyes. When she saw him earlier, she got the vibe that he was nothing more than a frightened boy. Now, she felt shaky from his proximity to her, he seemed to ooze power with desire and hunger in his gaze. His thumb grazed underneath her eyelid, wiping away a tear she didn’t even realize had fallen. Her breaths grew ragged; she hoped he couldn’t hear how her heart was practically beating out of her chest.

Sam slowly closed his eyes, and she repeated his movements, in a trance by him. Moments passed between them, until he tapped the side of her cheek with a finger smoothly, as if letting her know she should open her eyes again. When she did, the restraints had been removed from her hands, and Sam held onto them, softly rubbing at the raw, pink skin on her wrists. Then, his fingers trailed up to her lips, gently pressing one over them, motioning for her to be silent. His hands found her waist as he helped her out of the chair, her legs sore from being trapped for so long.

“You can’t tell anyone I did this for you, love,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear sending tingles through her body. Her chin quivered as she nodded, still too in shock to speak. Sam let out a sigh of relief, then moved to peek outside in the hall behind the door. When he was sure it was safe, he turned back to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her head into his chest with the other. They hurried out the door, her head still buried in his chest, until they reached the exit.

The cool air hit her cheeks and she could finally breathe again. Two guards eyed them up, confused at what Sam was doing, as they stepped closer to the two of them.

“What are you doing with her, Sam?” one of them half-sneered, not taking him and his status seriously. Sam answered without words, pulling out his gun in less than a second and pressing the tip of the cold barrel to the guard’s forehead, flicking off the safety.

“I won’t hesitate,” he spoke with a chill to his words that neither of them had ever heard before. He gulped and nodded, raising his hands in surrender as he slowly backed away from Sam. Sam pulled Y/N forward, stopping in front of a car ready for her. He released his hold on her body, sending a tinge of disappointment through her, motioning for her to step in as he opened the door for her. Before getting in, she looked back up at him, anticipating some form of goodbye at the very least. Sam picked up on this, and flashed her a soft smile, as if to reassure her that he had the situation all under control. He pressed his finger to his lips again, like it was their little secret, and she blushed in response, sliding into the car. Sam shut it behind her, watching with satisfaction as it drove away, taking her to a safer place.

He smirked as he adjusted his sleeves, stepping back inside. That would be the last time anyone underestimated his capabilities.

 

* * *

Harrison stared at Tom, his jaw dropped almost to the floor, struggling to believe everything he had just told him.

“What the hell do I do now?” Tom brought Harrison back in to focus on the issue at hand. Harrison gulped, knowing Tom wouldn’t want to hear what he obviously had to do.

“Well, you have no other option. You have to let Adams go,” Haz clarified for him. Tom let out a string of curses, almost punching his fist into the wall, but Haz grabbed onto his hand before it could meet the hard surface.

“What are the twins going to think of me? Fuck, what is everyone else in the business going to think of me?” Tom spat, his nerves on edge with every little thing that needed to be considered.

“If Adams goes blabbing to his men and others about what happened, then you owe him nothing anymore. You’ll have the right to kill him,” Haz pointed out, easing Tom’s fears a little bit.

Tom shrugged his shoulders to loosen the tense muscles, and he pushed open the door roughly, his confidence filling him again; he no longer felt like that weak boy anymore. His eyes scanned the room, locking eyes with Sam for a brief second, sensing something unusual from him. Tom let go of the thought, and trucked forward to stand over Adams, motioning for Harry to undo his restraints. Harry gaped at him, not moving, until Tom shot him his sternest glare. He begrudgingly did as he was ordered, and Adams stood up face to face with Tom, who leaned in to whisper a reminder.

“You may have seen me at my weakest, but you haven’t seen me at my strongest,” Tom kept a cool head, his words striking a twinge of fear into Adams heart. He moved out of the way, gesturing for the guards to follow him out, but not before he threw in one last word.

“Oh, and by the way, you were right about Y/N. I can’t kill her; well I could, I just don’t want to. Because I’m  _fucking_  her,” Tom sneered, the room dead silent after his shocking admittance. Adams froze with his back turned, he slowly met Tom’s eyes, with a glare that could kill.

“The more I think about it, she’s probably better off in my care. You and your wife can go, but I think I’ll keep Y/N here with me,” Tom added fuel to the fire, loving the palpable anger that rose from Adams, his fists clenching at his sides.

“This isn’t over,  _Tommy_ ,” he used the nickname he could only guess by Tom’s reaction that he loathed. Tom smirked back, twirling his handgun steadily in a circle, until he abruptly stopped the motion. The gun pointed straight upright, he pulled the trigger, the shot ringing through the room. It wasn’t just for show, it was a deadly warning. It was a promise Tom intended to keep. As long as Adams didn’t talk and paid up, they wouldn’t have an issue.

When everyone cleared out, Tom couldn’t hide his grin or the boldness he felt, as he hurried over to the room with Y/N in it. Before opening the door, he brushed a few stray hairs back and adjusted his collar, excited to be alone with her again.

He thrusted open the door, flashing on the lights, expecting to see her prettily smiling up at him.

He saw… _nothing._

Where the fuck was she? He bit back his lip, unable to contain the immense anger and absolute frustration rising in his chest. He swore loudly, whipping around to confront the guards at the door. As soon as he ran outside, eyes ablazing, they couldn’t hide the fear in their eyes. Tom gripped onto a gun in each hand, both pointed threateningly at each man. They rushed to explain.

“We never saw her!” one of them let slip, and Tom chuckled at his obvious lie.

“If you never saw her, then how would you know she’s missing?” Tom interrogated, waiting for him to come up with another useless excuse. Tom didn’t have time for excuses though; he pulled down on the trigger. The guard collapsed to the ground, dead, and Tom turned both his guns on the guard left standing.

“Now, are you going to cut the bullshit and tell me where she went?” Tom grinned, and the guard eagerly bobbed his head up and down.

* * *

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around her body, her eyes glued to the door. It was like everything that had happened was some crazy dream, but every time she looked around the unfamiliar safe house, she was reminded it was all real. The only thought on her mind was the night at the bar. It was crazy that if she hadn’t taken Tom’s hand, she’d probably be dead. Tom would have shot and killed her like her life meant nothing.

She wondered why Sam let her escape, and why she took his help in the first place. If Tom was going to kill her, he would’ve done it already, so why did she leave? And how long could she stay here? There was no right answer to any of her questions.

The doorknob rattled, drawing her attention back to the locked entrance. She froze, terrified, and her only instinct was to pull the blanket over her head and curl up into a ball, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and leave.

From outside the door, Tom cursed in annoyance, cracking his knuckles before he drove his leg into the door, kicking it down and out of his way. He stepped in, his eyes immediately falling on the figure hiding underneath a blanket. He was beyond pissed, but he still managed to smirk at her failed attempt to run from him. He would always find her.

Tom paused over her, expecting her to remove the blanket from her head. After a few seconds ticked by, he swore and yanked the sheet off her body, doing it for her. She lifted her chin to look him in the eyes, a hopeful smile on her face, praying he would think it was funny. He didn’t.

“Princess, you’ve caused me a lot of trouble,” Tom stated, his nostrils flaring and his hands balled up into tight fists. She moved to stand up and face him, placing her hand in the middle of his chest, her eyes scanning him up and down before resting on his chocolate-brown, furious eyes.

 _“So?”_  the single word seemed to drip from her mouth, her eyebrows raised, testing his already thin patience. Her outright courage turned him on and made him lose all control. His hand grabbed onto her wrist, pinning it to the wall behind her. Tom pressed his body so tight against her there was no room for her to breathe.

“I’ll give you one chance to apologize for that,” he threatened, his breath hot against her skin, the wetness pooling up between her legs as she struggled to escape his grasp. He only pushed her further up against the wall, as if to say he was already being too easy on her.

“What if I’m not sorry?” she whimpered, a smirk encompassing her face, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him. He pressed his lips to her neck, sucking violently, not letting her even turn her head to the side. He backed off a little, his eyes wildly bearing into her.

“Then I’ll have to make you sorry, babygirl,” he hissed, wasting no more time with talking. His hands dug into her waist, picking her off the ground and carrying her over his shoulder to the bedroom, until he threw her onto the bed roughly. She started to sit back up, but Tom jumped on top of her, pushing her shoulders deep into the mattress. This didn’t stop her from tugging on the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head, tossing it to the side as she slid her hands up and down his abs. He grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head, smashing his lips onto hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth as she let out tiny moans. He released his grip on her and inched backward, pulling at her shirt.

“Take it off yourself,” he commanded, showing he was still mad at her. She thought about refusing, but wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out how he’d react. As she took it off, he pulled down her leggings, flipping her over onto her stomach. She started to turn back around, but Tom pressed a hand on her lower back, leaning it to whisper in her ear.

“You snuck out on me, princess, you need to be punished,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, waiting for her nod of acceptance. She finally caved in, giving Tom a small nod and he trailed his hand down her back, resting on her ass briefly before bringing his hand down, lightly at first. Her hands gripped the sheets to her side, trying to muffle her moans with her head in a pillow to spare him the satisfaction of knowing she enjoyed what he was doing to her. Picking up on this, he brought his hand down harder; she continued to bury her face in the pillow. Frustrated, he yanked the pillow out from under her and tilted her head to the side.

“I wanna hear you scream my name, darling,” his sweet name-calling contrasted with his harsh intentions, and to Tom’s dismay she shook her head back at him.

_“Never.”_

He smirked, thinking he would get her to that point either way, he would just have to work a lot harder. He earned a small gasp from her as he unexpectedly flipped her on her back, his hands working fast on removing his belt. Taking advantage of the moment, she sat up to her knees, pushing him down to the bed, this time tugging down his pants. Before he could protest, she wrapped her mouth around his hard cock, going slow to hear him beg. Tom’s hands reached down to finger through her hair, giving it a tough yank so she’d speed up her movements. She obliged, going deeper and faster, twirling her tongue around the tip, until he became a moaning mess.

“Y/N, please,” Tom couldn’t help himself from yelling her name, his hands gripping her hair as his hips bucked further up into her. She paused her movements to let out a sly comment.

“What happened to _me_  screaming  _your_ name, Tommy?” she smirked, his attention snapping back down to her. He groaned and switched positions, quickly remembering his anger at her. His hand swept down to her pussy, forcefully dragging his fingers up and down until her hips pushed back against his hand.

“So wet for me, yeah?” Tom chuckled, reinforcing his dominance, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing circles into her as her hand found his bicep and her fingernails clawed into his bare skin. She felt her head tip backward, her moans increasing in intensity; she didn’t care anymore that she was begging.

Tom withdrew his hand, stopping all stimulation, and she angrily grabbed at him, her eyes throwing daggers at him. He didn’t wait long, lining up his cock in front of her dripping entrance, stopping to hear her plead for it.

“Tell me what you want,” he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it come from her pretty lips.

“Just fuck me already, Tom,” she spat, having dealt with his shit enough at that point. He took her words seriously, thrusting into her with all he had. The headboard pounded into the wall, spurring on both of their anger for each other. His hands snaked back to tug slightly on her hair as she raked her fingernails down his shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He pushed in and out of her as they neared their climaxes, both determined not to be the first.

“I know you want to cum, princess, beg for it,” Tom insisted, she only dug her nails deeper into him, shaking her head in refusal. He picked up the pace even more, desperate for her to cave in so he could release. She teetered near the edge, trying to hold herself back, but with one more thrust she couldn’t control it anymore. She let out a series of loud moans she’d been holding back the entire time, screaming his name, putting a tiny smile on his face at that.

She tossed her head back as far as she could, letting out a final moan as she reached her climax, a wave of bliss and numbness taking over her entire body as her toes curled up. Tom soon followed, releasing inside of her, groaning as his chest fell on top of hers, his curls dripping with sweat. She anticipated a few minutes of them laying like this, but Tom got up almost right away, throwing her clothes from off the floor back at her.

“What are you doing?” she questioned, not understanding the rush. Tom pulled his shirt back over the top of his head, fumbling with each individual button as he flung his head to the side to get a stray curl out of his face.

 

_“We aren’t staying here.”_

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Tom jerked the car door shut, still not telling her where they were going despite her repetitive questions. She stayed silent once they got in, observing the way his face grew worry lines; he was obviously distressed. She cringed, knowing he must feel that tormented with each new set of troubles that came along with the new day. Life wasn’t easy for anybody, but she couldn’t imagine the amount of responsibilities leading the mob entailed. She shifted closer to him and laid a hand on his shoulder to offer up support she felt he needed.

“You know you could… I don’t know, talk to me, right?” she struggled to find the correct words. Tom stiffened, turning his chin down to glare at her; she didn’t look forward to whatever he was going to say next.

“How the fuck do I know that? You don’t know me, I don’t know you. So why would I  _know_  that I can talk to you?” Tom sneered, growing more angry with each word. His sarcastic questions brought her back down to the reality of the situation: they really didn’t know anything about each other. She fought with herself to not take his words personally, and deflected his rage.

“Well, then get to know me and I’ll get to know you, stupid,” she responded simply, the last insult slipping out before she could block it. His eyes widened, his eyebrows raised to the sky on his forehead, beyond shocked and a little amused if he was being honest.

“Did you just refer to me, the  _king of the mob_ , as stupid? You know what I could do to you, right?” Tom reminded her of his status and that he was to be taken seriously. She continued to ignore this fact, though. Something deep down told her that he wasn’t as menacing as he pretended to be.

“Yeah, cause you’re being stupid! You don’t need to be heartless all the time, I know there’s a kindness in you deep down. Deep, deep down,” she pressed for him to let down his walls, even just a smidge. She tapped his chest, as if to signal he had a heart and should use it sometime. Tom sighed, dropping his shoulders a couple inches from their normal fixed state.

“Okay, wanna talk? Wanna hear my darkest secrets, my worst fears? I could tell you all of it. But what about you? You could be a spy from your uncle, trying to manipulate me through sex. That’s why you want me to open up, isn’t it?  _Isn’t it?_ ” his voice grew more and more fierce, until he spat out the last two words like she wasn’t human, just an annoyance he had to deal with. Her jaw dropped down as she slid as far away from him as she could manage in the backseat. She gazed out the window, biting her lip to hold back tears at his rude assumptions. Tom didn’t know anything about what she had dealt with.

“Fuck off, you don’t know anything about me and him! For the record, Adams can burn in hell for all I care. I’m not a fucking spy,” she sizzled, her skin radiating heat from the blood boiling in her veins. Tom had struck a nerve with her; he’d never seen her furious for all the times she’s seen him like that. He felt a pang of guilt for his unkind words, and he reached out and pulled her body closer to him again.

“Sorry… Why are you so bitter with him?” Tom questioned, partly because it was vital information, but mostly because he didn’t like seeing her like that.

“My parents were murdered when I was little, and I just can’t push away the suspicion that he had something to do with it, especially now that I know he’s involved in the mob. Anyways, I had to move in with him and his total bitch of a wife. Let’s just say that didn’t want to be parents and they made that crystal clear from the very start,” she explained, confessing more in just a few sentences than she had ever told anyone else. A small frown crossed Tom’s lips, his resentment for Adams growing even more in the pit of his stomach after hearing what he did to her. Tom now felt no mercy for keeping Y/N from him, if anything he felt more sure of his actions. Before he could stop himself, he began to confess his own past in return.

“My mom, Nikki, disappeared when I was little, sometimes I imagine that she’s safe somewhere, away from the mob life. My dad took it really hard, and he… He was, uh, killed too. The worst part is, I got there seconds too late, if I would’ve gotten there sooner…” Tom revealed, his bruised hands trembling in his lap. There was something more he wasn’t saying, she was sure of it. His lips shook uncontrollably and an overwhelming wave of grief passed over him. She placed a hand on top of his, stopping him from shaking with her soothing touch.

His eyes locked with hers, his head dropped down to settle on her forehead, his hands moving up to toy with a strand of her hair. Tom felt something he hadn’t ever experienced before– _safety._  Like he could tell her more, the truth behind Dom’s death. It wasn’t the logical thing to do, she could be lying to him to get him to open up, but he didn’t get that vibe with her. He opened his mouth to try and find the right way to tell her, but nothing came out.

She glided so close to him their legs brushed up against each other. Tom longed just to be near her, to be in constant contact with her body; he felt not only safer but more in control of himself and his wild emotions. His fingers traced over her hips, and she took the chance to hop onto his lap, flinging her arms over the tops of his shoulders. She leaned into his hold on her, the tip of her nose grazing his. A moment passed over them, one of yearning and of hunger. Not in a burning sexual way like in the past, but an affectionate, sentimental longing. He didn’t just want her in that way; he wanted to sleep by her side, her presence calming him and hopefully preventing the nightmares.

A knock on the outside of the car door broke their concentration, and he smiled one last time at her, before putting on his emotionless expression that struck fear into everyone’s heart but hers. She felt closer to him, like she knew he would never lay a finger on her. He stepped out first, offering his hand for her to grasp as she followed after him.

“Where did you take me?” she half-teased, before taking in the view around them.

“My house,” he flashed her a secret smile, hidden from the guards circling in around them.

It wasn’t right to call it a house, not even the word mansion fit properly. She gulped before following Tom’s lead. She had no idea what to expect when she walked in.

* * *

Y/N wandered throughout the endless halls, thinking she would never have enough time to explore each and every room. She wondered if Tom even had been in all of them, there were just too many to manage. She pulled open two glass doors, stepping into a stunningly designed library, filled with books she was sure he’d never have the time to read.

“So you’re with him willingly now?” a voice interrupted her exploring, sending a chill down her spine. She abruptly spun on her heels, face to face with Sam. He strided forward, leaving almost no room to breathe between the two of them.

“Well he found me so do I really have a choice?” she responded, a little offended that he acted like she was in a position to negotiate. He gingerly placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them up and down in unison over her arms, leaning in to her side to speak directly into her ear.

“You always have a choice, Y/N,” Sam assured. She shuddered from his proximity to her, not able to think clearly or come up with a decent response.

“Maybe I want to be with him, did you ever think of that?” she reciprocated, standing her ground under the pressure he was causing her to feel. Sam scoffed at this, tossing his head back in annoyance, not believing her for a second.

“You don’t know him like I do; he will always put the job first, always has and always will. You don’t want to get caught in the crossfire when he’s forced to choose. Even if he falls helplessly in love with you, which I highly doubt he’s capable of, he won’t choose you in the end,” Sam pushed her to listen to his warning, but she only grew frustrated with him. She shoved his chest back a mere inch or two, the possibly romantic moment long gone.

“That’s because no one ever gave him a chance! You call yourself a family but you sit back and do nothing as he slowly tears himself apart! If I had a family, I would never give up on them like how you’ve given up on Tom,” she retorted, the hurt and resentment building up between them.

“And why is it my job to take care of him?  _What about me?_  I never asked for any part of this life, but here I am. The minute I get the chance to leave, I’m gone,” Sam snapped, and she felt pity for him with a little more understanding of his situation. His chest rose up and down steadily, his body overheated, on the verge of breaking down in front of her. She picked up on this and wrapped her arms around him, until he could breathe normally again. He finally returned the embrace after a while, his hands traveling up to rest warmly on her shoulder blades. Sam felt physically and emotionally better in her arms. In that moment, he was sure of one thing:  _he wanted her._

* * *

Tom gripped the door frame tightly, overhearing every word of Sam and Y/N’s conversation. The fact that she came to his defense made him feel sick, like he couldn’t even stand on his two feet. He felt incredibly vulnerable, like his every weakness had been exposed. It amazed Tom that she didn’t even care about Sam’s warning, it just made her that more sure of herself.

It wasn’t that Tom didn’t want her to fix him, he wanted that more than anything. It was that he couldn’t have it both ways, Sam was right. He would eventually reach a point where he would be forced to choose between love and the mob. The mob that his father had spent his life building up, it was Tom’s destiny and his father’s legacy. He wished he could have both, but realistically he couldn’t.

Tom should’ve walked away, let go of his feelings and pushed them aside, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He was taking a risk with her, a horrible one at that, but he was going to do it anyway. Tom had to at least try to manage both.

He pressed his back to the wall, hiding himself as Sam walked out of the library. Tom waited a few more seconds before moving to stand in the doorway.

Y/N took one step at a time, her fingertips grazing the edges of the old books; sweet, little hums passing from her lips filled the quiet of the room. He could tell how utterly focused she was, she was determined to fix him. It made Tom feel wanted, like if she had hope for him maybe he should have some too.

He cleared his throat and she jumped up, turning around and blushing a heavy shade of pink at his obvious stares. Tom let himself grin back at her, not ashamed of revealing his true colors. When he reached her spot, he surprised her even more by lacing his fingers in between hers. She took in a sharp intake of air, anticipating his next words with a little confusion.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” he suggested spontaneously, surprising even himself. She flashed him a dazzling smile, his heart pattering in his chest at an alarming rate, before she nodded in agreement, sending a wave of excitement through both of them.

* * *

Harry trailed behind a line of men, taking slow, deliberate strides into the room he’d never previously been in. The men looked down at him with suspicion, lacking even a bit of trust for the Holland. Nevertheless, they led him into the office, and he stood before their leader, a confident smirk present on his features.

“Harry _Holland_ ,” Adams placed a special emphasis on his last name, as if to remind him he had no business coming to his turf in the first place. He could’ve been killed for such a daring move, but curiosity got the best of Adams, and he let him inside.

“What brings you here? To abduct and interrogate me, and steal my niece from under me again?” he sarcastically chided, cutting straight to the chase. Harry threw his head back, a peel of laughter escaping his lips, and all the mobsters in the room tensed up.

“No, actually, quite the opposite,” Harry shocked the others with his revelation. Adams leaned in closer, sitting in his chair, motioning for him to step forward with a single finger. Harry did as he was told, the smirk on his face still present as ever.

“I think we can help each other out,” Harry continued to pursue his intentions. Small gasps and murmurs passed throughout the chilly room, and Adams held up a hand, with this gesture silencing all noise in less than a second. Adams stood up out of his chair, moving to stand in front of his desk, finally taking Harry seriously.

 

_“I’m listening.”_


	5. Chapter 5

Tom strolled side by side on the dimly lit pathway with Y/N, his hand swinging back and forth in her grasp with each step they took. She held his hand and with her other loosely toyed with the buttons on Tom’s coat slung across her shoulders. The autumnal chilly nights were at hand, not as cold as winter but nippy enough to warn that in a few months the city would be layered in a blanket of snowflakes. Everything was slowly fading away, the leaves turning rosy red and pumpkin orange before they shriveled up in time for the change of the season. **  
**

It was as if nature was speaking to Tom, letting him know that he could have her for now, but soon the trees would come to be bare and all the brilliantly colored leaves would be short-lived. At the thought, his immediate reaction was to tense up and feel for his gun strapped and hidden in his waist belt. She felt his grip grow stronger and tried to draw his attention back into the sweet, transient moment.

“Tom,  _relax._  You walk everywhere like you’re going to kill someone,” she cautiously teased, running her thumb back and forth on his palm. He shifted his focus back to her, forgetting his concerns when she smiled at him with such care; Tom couldn’t fathom why she cared, why she was letting a basket case into her life. He opened his mouth to speak, but a single leaf, a softer shade of sienna, spiraled down from the massive tree overhead. His eyes traced it as it landed so delicately in Y/N’s hair and made a home. Tom pulled her into him, her forehead wrinkling up as she struggled to get a good look while he carefully plucked the fallen leaf from the top of her head.

He brought it down for her to examine, holding it in the palms of his two hands, so out of place within his grasp. A gun, a roll of cash, or a glass of gin and tonic would be a much better fit for Tom. Nevertheless, she took it from his hands, gently slipping it inside his front coat pocket, still wrapped around her body.

“It’s got to be a sign, right? We could use as much luck as we can get,” she explained her motives, and strangely Tom’s face lit up in a smile he didn’t even remember to bite back like usual. He nodded, and took her other spare hand in his, lifting both of them to the sky so he had a clear path to press a honeyed kiss on her lips.

“I have a favor to ask, but the thing is you have to say yes,” Tom broke away from the kiss only to confuse her with his words. She placed a hand on her hip, her eyes squinting up to scrutinize him as he continued.

“Tomorrow night, we’re sort of throwing, a– family party? Yeah, lets just call it that. Anyways, they are usually meant to bring together the other mob members, kind of as a way to, uh, catch up. So, where you come in, is to… send a message,” he carefully phrased, desperately trying to strike a balance between revealing too much and too little.

“And what would that be?” she urged him to finish. Tom looked to the pavement, deflecting her prying stare as he continued.

_“That you’re mine now.”_

She drew in a sudden breath at his honesty, it felt unexpected and different to her being called his, as if confirming what they had was real, or at least pretend. He shakily lifted his gaze up back to meet her eyes, the shocked expression still splattered across her face. She bit back her bottom lip and glanced up at the growing dark sky, then returning his look.

“Well if I have to say yes, then that’s that, right?” she concluded simply, as if it were pointless to even be having the conversation.

“But do you want to say yes?” he prodded, eagerly and hopefully. A soft smile returned to her lips as she casually shrugged her shoulders up and down.

“Are you asking me to be your… ah, girlfriend?” she sputtered out, trying to sound cool and collected but truly felt awkward and foolish saying the word girlfriend to the king of the mob.

Tom froze, too many thoughts running through his brain. Once again, he knew what he had to say, that it was just a show, all pretend. That he could never be what she wanted him to be. That it would never, ever work and they shouldn’t even entertain the idea. But she made him want to at least try.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Tom smirked, not in a cocky but a shy, nervous way. She hugged his coat tighter to her body, veering from side to side on her heels, until she took one step closer to him.

“Okay, well then I guess I’m saying yes,” she finished, easing his fears as he breathed out a deep sigh of relief.

It wasn’t like Tom to ever feel scared; he rarely allowed himself to feel that weak. With Y/N, it was like every second he felt himself falling more and more, becoming more afraid, more vulnerable, and more weak. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to.

* * *

Y/N reached her fingers around to her back, managing to zip up the gorgeous dress on her own. Nerves trickled through her body, she knew that how she acted at the party mattered more than anything else. The thought of ruining the plan made her stomach churn.

“Princess, ready to come ou-” Tom stepped in to where she stood, not getting out his last word as his eyes scanned her up and down. His mouth quivered, as he fought with himself to say the right thing. He spun her around, brushing strands of her hair off to the side to run his lips across her neck. She shivered at his touch, her breath hitching in her throat.

“You look…  _amazing_ ,” Tom’s lips trailed up to her ear as he complimented her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, mentally cursing at herself for not thinking of anything better to say in reply. He grinned, pulling away with a hand still on her waist, taking her with him to the room filled with dangerous criminals.

All eyes fell on the two of them, Tom acting like he didn’t notice but he pulled her in a little bit closer to his side. Men in suits hung in small groups with beautiful women all clinging to their sides. Y/N blushed at the attention, wanting to run off with Tom and escape the party right that minute. As he led her to a group, she felt a particular heated stare, looking around she realized who it was.

Sam stood amongst a group of younger men, all interacting with each other except for him. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of her, but his amazement soon switched to sour jealousy. Sam gulped at his older brother’s hand gripping onto her waist; he wanted to replace it with his own. He wanted to walk through the party with her by his side, to have the jealous glares focused on him rather than Tom. She didn’t take her eyes off of Sam, and he couldn’t watch it any longer. He took a long swig from his drink and spun on his heels, deserting the party.

Tom tugged at her waist, drawing her focus back into the people he needed to introduce her to. He pulled out a chair at a round table for her, decorated elegantly with multiple bottles of champagne pooled together in the middle. She squeezed the underside of her chair tightly to calm her nerves as the conversation rolled on.

Tom slipped a hand to rest on her thigh, slowly pushing her sleek dress out of the way as he slid it further up her leg. She didn’t fully comprehend what he was doing until he moved his hand in to rest on her inner thigh, and she pinched her legs together, trapping his hand. Her head turned to the side to shoot him a questioning look, but he didn’t meet her eye, only continuing his movements. He snuck his fingers up to her core, underneath her panties to feel how fast he had aroused her.

Tom nodded as an older mobster rambled on a repetitive story he had heard several times before, a smug smile crossing his lips. Her breaths grew ragged as he traced over her clit with his fingers, first slowly and smoothly until he picked up the pace, She reached out under the table, grabbing a fistful of the hem of his dress shirt, needing something to hold onto to keep herself under control. She leaned back slightly in her chair, unnoticeably raising her hips into his touch. Her thighs drifted apart a few inches in her seat, and Tom nudged them closed with his leg.

She squeezed hard on his shirt to give him a warning, but he refused to slow down. Desperate for him to stop even though she didn’t want him too, she kicked her foot on the back of his calf with her high heel. She shrunk back even further in her chair and she bit down on her lips to muffle the quiet moans that threatened to spill over.

“Are you feeling okay, love?” Tom pretended to act concerned, concealing his grin with a napkin over his mouth. She tried to shoot him a glare but she could feel herself teetering on the edge, and she had to fight with every bone in her body not to throw her head back and cry out his name.

“Yeah, i’m ahh– all good,” she covered up her sounds by blending them into a cohesive sentence, feeling the rush of her high coming onto her. She couldn’t take it anymore, and tossed her head backward, pretending to burst into a fit of coughs. All heads turned to gape at her, but she quickly recovered, apologizing.

“Sorry… just a… itch in my throat,” she lied, earning several raised eyebrows, until they continued on their conversation. Tom slipped his hand away to rest on her knee, giving her a gentle, arrogant pat. She stomped her heel into his foot, Tom barely flinching due to his tolerance for pain.

“Yeah, she’s fine, more than fine,” he continued to lay it on thick, a small giggle escaping her lips as she dug her fingernails into his thigh. Tom squeezed her hand, moving it to the tabletop for everyone to see.

“So, Y/N, we never got your last name?” a nosy mobster pried, asking the question they were all thinking: who was she?

“Uh, Adams…” she disclosed, looking to Tom to see his reaction at her confession. He was more than okay with what followed, the dropped jaws and stares of disbelief.

“You’re related to…” he pressed further, still in complete disbelief. She nodded her head, Tom signalling that he would take it from there.

“She’s his niece, but she’s not with him,” Tom began, all eyes bearing into him, hanging onto his every word.

_“She’s with me.”_

* * *

Sam stormed away from the party, pacing down the hall to find somewhere he could get wasted without anyone finding him. He paused outside the door to Harry’s room, the door slightly ajar. He pressed his ear up against the door, hearing his twin’s voice growing louder as he spoke on the phone.

“Trust me, he’s going to fall for her, it will work,” Harry emphasized greatly, as if working hard to convince someone. “Yeah, yeah, he can parade her all around right now and shit on your reputation, but we need to give it time. When she’s gone, it has to completely destroy him, it’s the only way,” Harry revealed, his back turned to the door, not noticing as his twin pushed it open and gaped at him.

“Harry?” Sam’s voice echoed throughout the room, Harry jumping at the sound, hanging up on the call immediately. He tossed his phone to the floor, distancing himself from the trouble that was brewing.

“How much of that did you hear?” Harry demanded to know, stepping closer to Sam. Sam’s jaw clenched, and he wasted no time, grabbing Harry by the collar and slamming him up against the wall.

“Don’t fucking touch her, if you hurt Y/N, I swear to god!” Sam screamed, not conscious of the commotion they were causing.

“Sam! I’m doing this for us! Tom doesn’t give a shit about either of us, but when I’m king–” Harry began, hoping his twin would calm down and see from his point of view.

“What? That’s what this is about? You’d hurt someone who’s innocent just to steal a title? We’re fucking brothers, does that mean nothing to you anymore?” Sam spat, the hurt and betrayal evident in his cracking voice.

“He’s lying to you. About Dad,” Harry carefully let out, watching as Sam’s face predictably fell at his mention of their late father. His grip tightened around Harry’s neck as his eyes grew watery.

 _“Dad?”_  Sam whimpered, remembering the close relationship he had shared with his dad, the closest out of all the brothers. Before Harry could explain, Harrison burst through the door, eyes running wild at the scene he had came across.

“What the  _fuck_  is going on with you two? You can hear screams from inside the goddamn party, dumbasses! The party that means a lot to the Holland name, do I need to remind you?” Harrison angrily lectured, wrestling Sam off of Harry.

Sam brushed himself off, not giving Harry another look as he followed Harrison out the door, but Harry lunged forward to grab onto his brother’s wrist. Harry dropped his arrogant exterior, showing a softer side, a truer side of himself.

“Sam, I don’t want to do this unless you’re by my side,” his voice was barely louder than a whisper as he pleaded.

“I can’t if this is the way you’re going to do it… Please, just wait, your time will come,” Sam tried one last time to persuade him to back off. Harry’s face fell, realizing he would have to do this on his own, but to him it was worth it.

“No. Tom is going to drive everything dad built into the ground, and once you see that, you’ll stand with me,” Harry spoke, sure of himself. Sam tore his wrist from Harry’s grasp, shooting him a disgusted look.

“If you really believe that, then you  _don’t know me at all_ ,” Sam concluded, finished with his twin as he turned his back and hurried to catch up with Harrison, leaving Harry alone in the room, and with his plan.


	6. Chapter 6

_ Adams grip on Y/N’s tiny arm practically tore through the flimsy material to her shirt, his sharp, cracked fingernails leaving her skin raw. He flung open the closet door, eyes drifting devilishly to the little girl cowering beneath him, trying to escape his grasp. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he threw her into the enclosed space like she was as light as a feather, quickly slamming the door shut while she struggled to crawl back up to her feet. His fingers fumbled with the lock, knee pressed into the door to keep it tightly closed. Finally succeeding, he fled the room, leaving her behind, pounding at the closed door with small fists, her loud cries bouncing off the thin walls of the closet.  _

 

_ After minutes of thrashing to break free in vain, she sunk back down to the floor, pulling her knees into her chest for comfort. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rocked back and forth, imagining she was somewhere else. She could almost feel her mother’s fingers pulling her hair back into an intricate braid and hear her father’s deep laugh. Hours passed and the walls seemed to be caving in, inch by inch, until Adams finally swung open the door without another word. Y/N would stay in there as long as it took, as long as she stayed ignorant on his involvings in the mob and didn’t interfere with his precious business.  _

 

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, sitting up in bed gasping for breath. Tom shifted in his sleep next to her as she fought to regain steady breathing. When he didn’t flinch, she silently crept out of bed, making sure to wrap the warm comforter around Tom in her absence. Walking on the tips of her toes, she snuck out the door and down to the kitchen. She searched blindly for a glass to fill with water, letting out a shaky breath as the cool liquid met her lips and soothed her scratchy throat. 

 

A hand reached out to grip on the tops of her shoulders, tensing up her hand flew to her mouth to cover up a scream. Whirling around rapidly, she stood face to face with Harry, who backed away a step and raised his arms in surrender. Relaxing a bit, she leaned against the counter. 

 

“Fuck, Harry you scared me,” she muttered, bringing the glass of water to her lips once again to calm herself down. He let out a sly smile, dropping his raised hands to rest on his sides. 

 

“Bad dream, sweetheart?” Harry attempted to sound concerned, a trace of ulterior motive present in his tone. She couldn’t help but smile at his spot-on assumption; it wasn’t just a bad dream to her, but a recurring nightmare that would probably always interrupt her sleep. 

 

“No, just thirsty, and you?” she deflected the attention to him. Harry shrugged, fingers one by one rapping against the counter creating a pitter-patter sound that in any other situation would have served as a warning. Y/N pushed away the thought, telling herself he was Tom’s brother, a trusted ally she needed to learn to have faith in. 

 

“Same here, could you actually reach up and hand me a glass, love?” his honeyed words dripped with sweetness, with a sense of innocence. She nodded, turning her back to do as he requested, extending her arm to reach the glass. 

 

Harry only had seconds, if that. But, he was a trained killer, having his older brother to thank for that. His fingers wrapped around the knife burning a hole in his pocket, raising it above his head to strike down into her flesh. Sweat rolled down his cheeks, this kill wasn’t like the others. He knew she hadn’t done anything to deserve it, she was just thrown in the wrong place and had to suffer the consequences of the one she chose to love. He gripped on the handle, shoving back the thoughts to focus on the task in front of him. 

 

“Y/N!” Sam yelled at the top of his lungs, running into the kitchen at full speed. Harry immediately whipped the blade behind his back, awkwardly stumbling backward. Her grip on the glass loosened, sending it shattering across the floor in fright at Sam’s interruption. 

 

“What the hell Sam!” she shrieked, carefully stepping across the bits and pieces of glass littering the tiled floor. When Sam and Harry simply exchanged deathly looks without a reply, she continued, breaking through the steely silence that filled the room. 

 

“What is up with you guys scaring the shit out of me tonight? Don’t you ever sleep?” she questioned, desperate for some answers to the strange situation. She could feel something else was happening and hated being pushed to the outside looking in. Sam stepped forward, his hands gently reaching out to her waist, pulling her into his side. 

 

“Even in this house you can’t turn your back,” Sam snapped cooly, eyes shooting to glare into Harry’s. If looks could kill, Harry would be dead within seconds. A smirk streaked across his lips, his hand ran through his messy bedhead curls as he moved to leave the room. 

 

“Well have a good night, sleep tight,” Harry cooed, fingers twirling in a makeshift wave. His eyes bore into Sam’s, as if to warn him that he may have won this time, but he couldn’t be with her every minute of every day. The moment Harry shrunk away, Sam spun around, pushing Y/N against the counter, his eyes blazing with worry. 

 

“Please leave, get out of this house!” Sam wasted no time, pleading with everything he had in him that she leave, knowing anywhere would be safer than where she was. Her eyebrows crinkled together, confusion written across her face. 

 

“What are you saying, you’re crazy!” she retorted, and tried to push past him but he gripped onto her waist, forcing her back against the counter, unable to move. 

 

“Get out! Please just do it okay? Tell Tom you’ve had enough and that you don’t want to be with him,” Sam uselessly attempted to persuade her, but gave her no real reason as to why she should go. 

 

“No I’m not fucking doing that, so back off! Tom is finally trusting someone, trusting me, I’m not going to betray that for nothing,” she continually denied his requests. Growing desperate, his hands trailed up to her wrists, gripping so hard he was sure to leave bruises embedded in her skin. 

 

“Well if you won’t leave then I’ll have to take you away myself. You have to believe I’m doing this to protect you!” Sam insisted. His words made no sense to her, they went straight over her head. The further he pressed into her, her body froze in fear. Taking a chance, she leaned back into the counter to put some space in between them, kicking up her legs into his stomach to shove him aside. Sam fumbled back, Y/N took the opportunity to sprint away from him, hands clutching the railing as she fled up the stairs. 

 

Running down a familiar hall, she flew into an empty, dark room, quietly shutting the door behind her and sinking to the ground. Panting, she pressed her hands over her mouth to cover up her audible breaths, terrified of Sam finding her. Her mind wandered to Tom, praying he woke up and noticed she was missing, hoping he came looking for her. 

 

The lights flickered abruptly on, white spots swam across her vision before she could even comprehend what was happening. In the middle of her forehead, the crisp barrel of a gun prodded into her skull, a quiet click from the weapon freezing her body still. A paralyzing scream, loud enough to attract every soul in the house, escaped her mouth. The figure holding the gun seemed to back away in shock, quickly dropping it to clang against the floor. 

 

“Shit, shit… I’m so sorry Y/N! I--I thought you were an intruder! Oh my god, are you-- are you okay? What are you doing in my room?” Harrison rushed to apologize, stumbling over his words. She shrunk further away from him, holding her knees tight to her chest like she was that scared little girl trapped in the closet all over again. Haz started to reach out to comfort her, when the door flew open, smacking him in the back of the head. Cursing, he looked up to find Tom, fuming as he scanned the room, eyes frozen on the gun then Y/N curled up in a ball. Haz stepped backward, raising his hands as if to let him know it wasn’t what it looked like. 

 

“What. Is. Happening.” Tom demanded, emphasizing each word separately with a pause in between. Haz opened his mouth to speak, but Tom raised his hand up to quiet him, turning his focus towards Y/N. Her chin trembled as she met Tom’s sympathetic eyes, a few lone teardrops cascaded down her flushed cheeks to the floor. The anger and confusion left his body, his only concern was to wrap her up in his arms and bring her back to bed. 

 

Cradling her in his arms, he picked her up and took her to his room, not before sending Harrison a look that they weren’t finished yet. Haz gulped and shut the door, shaking his head and muttering to himself as he slipped back under the covers. 

 

Tom laid her down on top of the mattress with care, moving to slide in next to her and pull her head to rest on his chest, over his beating heart. Her fingers gripped onto his shirt, thankful she had one person left to trust among the Hollands. Soon her breathing slowed, and Tom watched with a smile as she slept peacefully in his arms. 

 

He bit back the guilty feeling crawling its way up his throat; he knew he should have noticed the second she left the bed. Tom felt like he was slowly losing his hold on everything: the mob, his brothers, and now her. Little things that slipped past his attention were building up into something much more serious, and if he didn’t focus it would all come crashing down on everything he’d worked to build. On everything his father had built. Wincing at the thought of Dom, memories resurfaced despite his resistance. 

 

_ Tom peaked out from inside the cabinet, as usual hiding in one of his favorite spots. He admired the way Dom carried himself, and he wanted more than anything to grow up and be just like him. His father shuffled around the office, cigar hanging out of his mouth, smoke giving the room a clouded, foggy appearance. Tom’s eyebrows snapped up in surprise as Nikki stormed in, ripping the cigar from his mouth and giving him a forceful shove backward.  _

 

_ Dom stifled a laugh, a mixture of drunk and overstressed, constant state of leading the mob. Nikki refused to back down, dunking the cigar into a glass of gin and stepping forward, mere inches from her husband.  _

 

_ “Have you stepped out of this office once in the past two days? Have you even spoken to me or your kids? No; you haven’t. You sit here, smoking and drinking, sending off men to kill other men, never anything different. You… you promised things would be different after the twins!” Nikki hissed, growing more furious with each empty promise that came to mind, feeling foolish for every believing a word of it.  _

 

_ “Nothing will ever change with you…” she finished, eyes falling to the floor, all hope lost in the man she once believed in more than anyone or anything. She wanted him to shake her, fall to his knees and beg her to see him in a different light, beg her to stay with him. Instead, he scoffed, pushing past her, denying the truth she threw in front of him.  _

 

_ “What did you expect? You married the king of the mob for fuck’s sake. Face reality and grow up, Nikki,” Dom reasoned, like her concerns were unfounded. Tom watched as his mum wiped away tears, her face contorting in pain, her once bright, ginger hair seemed dull and faded in Dom’s presence. Tom wanted to run to her, jump in her arms and tell her to stop crying, that dad was just in a mood.  _

 

_ “Well I’ll make it simple for you, then. Since you can’t handle both, choose. Me, or the mob,” she declared, turning to look him straight in the eyes. Dom’s rough exterior fell away at the options laid out for him. Tom looked back and forth from his mum to his dad, a quiet “no” leaving his mouth. Why did he have to choose? Dom’s expression hardened as he stepped to the door, inching it open for her.  _

 

_ “It was never you.” _

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

 

Tom kicked one foot atop of the other on the surface of his desk, Haz sat directly across from him as they thumbed through countless documents. Skimming through to search for important words, Tom would toss each thin paper behind his back after a few seconds until the floor was a sea of paperwork. 

 

“It just doesn’t make any fucking sense, Harrison,” Tom let out a frustrated sigh, angrily throwing the entire stack of papers to the ground. His head bowed forward to rest in his sweaty palms, he felt like this war with Adams was a disease eating away at him from the inside. 

 

“Tom, I know you don’t want to hear this, but…” Harrison began, his eyes falling to his hands twisting nervously together in his lap. Tom’s eyebrows snapped up, his forehead wrinkling at his best friend’s words of warning. 

 

“But what?” Tom tried to sound level-headed, but his inquiry came out much more heated than intended. 

 

“I think you need to face the fact that we have a mole. Someone in our close circle is a fucking traitor, it’s the only way Adams can anticipate every damn move we make,” Haz explained grudgingly, the truth unwanted but necessary to be dealt with. 

 

Tom squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his closed eyelids with the heels of his hands. If what Harrison was suggesting was true, that would mean the mole would have to be someone he trusted like a brother. And he couldn’t ever imagine the pain of being betrayed by a brother. 

 

Y/N skittishly bit down on her thumbnail as she wavered back and forth behind the door of Tom’s office. Her hand crept out to slowly take hold of the metal, cold to the touch doorknob. Before she could change her mind and walk back to their room for the third time, she quietly inched open the door to test the waters. Tom jumped to his feet, taking long strides to the center of the room where he paced back and forth, thoughts weighing heavy on his mind. 

 

“Once I find out who he is I’ll put him through so much suffering he’ll be begging for me to kill him!” Tom growled, his sharp tone stung at her cheeks and she slammed the door shut, stumbling backward until her spine met the wall that stood behind her. 

 

Tom’s head swiveled to face the noise, anger kicking in. He whipped out a gun, certain his man lay behind the door. Flinging it open he ran into the hall, reacting with speed once he realized it was his girl. Tom buried the gun behind his back, hoping she wouldn’t think he’d hold up a gun to her head for the second time. He stepped closer to her and her breath hitched as she arched further into the wall to shrink away from him, afraid. 

 

“Princess, I’m sorry you had to hear that, it’s just business is all,” Tom’s words were laced with softness, the effect she always had on him. Tom wanted to be good for her, to show her he could change if she gave him a chance and a little bit of time. Even though his business terrified her, she didn’t think there would be anything he could do that would drive her to give up on him. 

 

“Oh, it’s--fine, I just, was going to talk to you about something, but it can wait if you’re busy…” she sputtered out, looking down at the polished floors instead of his concerned gaze. Tom clasped both her hands, pulling her into his chest so she could hear how fast his heart beat in her presence. Maybe then she would understand he would do anything to keep her safe, understand that he couldn’t go back to the way his life was before her. 

 

“No, Y/N, I’m never too busy for you,” he whispered, pushing a wave of her hair back as he leaned in, lips brushing against her ear. Nodding back up at him, Tom led her into the office, forgetting Harrison was still there. 

 

“Haz get out,” Tom commanded, an annoyed eye roll hidden from his sight as he grumbled that they still had work to do, even something about being second best now. She flashed him a pitiful closed-lip smile and he immediately softened up, as did everyone when she was in the room. 

 

Tom plopped into his chair, spinning around to extend his arms out to her with a cocky smirk, motioning for her to sit on his lap. Blushing, she shyly wrapped her arms around his neck and joined him in his chair, feeling a rush of power from being at the head of the room. 

 

“So, I know we didn’t really talk about last night…” she started, not knowing how to tell him the whole story and keep him calm at the same time. Tom tried to channel patience and an open mind, nodding for her to go on. 

 

“Okay but you have to promise me you won’t get mad, and really mean it too,” she insisted, eyes bearing into his so she could ensure his honest acceptance of her terms. 

 

Tom knew that he had very little control over his anger. If something upset him, he didn’t feel the need to hold it in and pretend to be feeling something he wasn’t. But he knew she wasn’t going to continue without a promise, so he weakly convinced himself he could keep her promise. 

 

“Sure, darling, I promise,” he smiled, lying straight through his teeth. Relaxing at this, she inhaled deeply, ready to spill the secret she’d been keeping for a while. 

 

“Last night, I sort of ran into Sam and he was… I don’t know how to describe it, but he was definitely paranoid, telling me I need to leave the house, that I’m not safe,” she revealed, anxiously waiting for his response. Tom scoffed, confident the house was the safest place in the world for her. 

 

“That makes no sense, he was probably just up late and overtired,” Tom concluded, pushing off the subject as if it was nothing. She debated agreeing with him and keeping the rest a secret, but it weighed to heavy on her conscience to hide any longer. 

 

“Okay, but that’s not all of it. That, uh, night you first brought me here,” she reminded him, a knot building up in his stomach at the memory of it all. 

 

“You mean the night you broke out and I had to come find you? Yeah, I remember, why?” he sarcastically laughed, not understanding what she was trying to tell him. 

 

“Sam, he--- he was the one that helped me escape. We… we’ve had a couple more run-ins since then, but last night was different. Last night he was so aggressive and told me if I didn’t leave he would take me away, I’m just worried,” she finished, holding her breath scared to open her eyes and judge his reaction. His hands clenched around her thigh, almost cutting off the blood flow to her leg as his eyes burned with rage. 

 

“He, he WHAT?” Tom breathed out, thoughts running wild. It would explain why Sam was so distant and kept to himself lately, but he’d never thought it would be for this. 

 

“Tommy, please calm down, you promised not to get mad, remember? Just, just listen to me okay, it’s not a big deal I just thought you should know, okay?” she rushed to take away his anger, but only made it worse. 

 

“Not a big deal? He fucking went behind my back, now he’s trying to steal you away? What else is he trying to steal? He-- oh fuck,” Tom paused, the realization crashing into him with power. She cocked her head to the side, not understanding what he meant. 

 

“Get off me,” Tom lowly growled from the back of his throat, anger boiling in his veins the more he thought about his younger brother. 

 

“What? No! Tom, please talk to me, let’s just talk this out calmly? Remember your promise?” she persisted, grounding herself into the chair to keep him from making a rash decision. 

 

“Sam is him.”

 

Tom’s vision was blurred red, heat rising to his forehead, growing more and more impatient. His hands gripped her waist, lifting her up and tossing her back into the chair as he made a break for the door. Quickly following, she lunged forward, reaching for his hand to pull Tom back into the room. He snapped his hand away, sending her toppling to the floor, chin smacking against the hard surface. Pain radiated through her skull, her eyes fluttered back as a wave of dizziness overtook her. 

 

Tom flew out the door without hesitation, stormily pacing the hallway to Harry and Sam’s shared office with purpose. At the door, he stepped back and drove his foot into it with all the force he could build up, successfully breaking it off its hinges. 

 

“What the hell?” Sam and Harry shouted in unison, hands flying to grab their guns but stopping once they saw their older brother dash in. 

 

Before either of them could utter another sentence, Tom craned his neck to each side, loosening up his shoulders. Walking straight up to Sam, he gulped, backing away in fear at his older brother’s look of pure hatred trained only on him. Tom swiped his tongue across the outside of his upper lip, bringing his left elbow up and his right fist balanced out his movements as it swung across Tom’s body, meeting Sam’s cheekbone with a loud crack. Sam collapsed to the ground, clutching his already bruised cheek with one hand and he looked up at his brother with a blend of fear and shock. 

 

Harry shrunk further into the corner, scared his turn would soon be next. Tom relentlessly fell to his knees over Sam’s body, driving punch after punch into his delicate, freckled cheeks. Desperate cries and pleads for him to stop fled Sam’s pale blue lips, his eyes squeezed shut so he wouldn’t have to see the enraged expression written all over Tom. Sam wrapped his arms tight to his chest to provide himself an ounce of comfort to take away some of the pain, but it just kept coming, Tom not near done yet. 

 

Y/N finally stumbled into the room, crying out at the bloody scene in front of her, Haz right behind her. She screamed out Tom’s name, begging for him to hear her and stop, but he couldn’t think of anything else except the thought of Sam teaming up with Adams to steal everything he had left. Everything he had devoted his time to keeping alive after Dom died.

 

She couldn’t merely watch anymore, Sam’s body gone limp, his arms once held tightly to his chest hung loosely at his sides. She dived on top of Tom, wrapping her arms around him to spread warmth, to let him know she was there and he had to stop. Tom didn’t fight it, instead laid still in her embrace, trying to feel any emotion other than outrage.

 

Harrison dragged Sam’s body away from Tom, cradling his beaten, unrecognizable face in the palms of his hands, staring in unbelief at the results of Tom’s actions. The room fell into a silence and Tom regained his ragged breaths, Harry still cowering in the shadows of the room trying to stay unnoticed. Blood slowly dripped from Tom’s shaking knuckles, staining the floor in red, so much red. Red splattered against the white walls and coating the area Sam had laid in, red oozing from his open wounds onto the soft cotton fabric of Harrison’s shirt. 

 

Sam managed to tilt his head up, looking into Haz’s comforting ocean blue eyes in fear, his hand weakly grasping onto Harrison’s bicep, pleading for him to save him, to do anything. Watery tears built up in the corners of Haz’s eyes, a newfound courage instilled in him. 

 

“Get him out of here,” Tom murmured, still ringing loudly in the quiet silence of the room. No one lifted a finger, for once not immediately obeying the king of the mob’s commands. 

 

“Tom, we can’t be sure he’s the mole and even if he is--”

 

“Haz what the fuck did I just say?” Tom spoke louder this time, drowning out Harrison’s weak efforts to persuade him. 

 

“You can’t do this! Harry, tell him he can’t do this!” Harrison yelled, drawing attention to Harry standing apart from the bloody mess. Sam’s head fell to his twin’s direction, meeting his eyes with his own swollen, puffy, pink ones. Pity arose in Harry’s chest, all this was costing too much. It was all because of him, and Sam loyally took every punch from Tom to protect Harry. Guilt crashed over him, but Harry shoved it aside, knowing everything he had done up to this point couldn’t be all for nothing. 

 

“Do whatever you want,” Harry answered in a low undertone, breaking Sam’s heart with four simple words. The corners of Sam’s mouth bent downward into a disappointed frown, Harrison’s face equally hurt. Tom motioned towards the men standing in the doorway to rip Sam’s body away from Haz’s grasp. He didn’t pick a fight, only slunk back against the wall watching as they dragged Sam’s body across the floor, leaving behind a trail of blood. 

 

“Where do you want him?” 

 

“Toss him out on the street for all I care, he’s not a Holland to me anymore,” Tom turned away, no desire to watch it happen. Y/N trembled, still clinging onto Tom, fearful he would jump from her arms and cause more damage. She wished she never said anything to him in the first place, couldn’t even look at Sam without an overwhelming wave of guilt hitting her. Sam hung his head back in defeat, realizing that nobody in the room truly cared for him, and felt more alone than ever before. 

 

Harry and Haz soon left the room, and she tore apart from Tom’s grasp, trying to distance herself from him. He lifted his arm to reach out for her shoulder, yet she slapped away his hand. 

 

“Fuck you, you promised not to get mad. You fucking promised, Tom, you looked me in the eyes and for once I thought… I can’t believe I thought that I could change you if we trusted each other. But you lost that.  _ You’re a monster _ ,” she shakily revealed, slicing into his heart. 

 

Tom knew it was all true, he knew this was going to be the moment he lost her, just like Dom lost Nikki. He had turned into the monster his father had become, the monster that had driven him to his death. 

 

“You… you can leave, if that’s what you want,” Tom stumbled over his words, but he knew he had to give her the option. He couldn’t keep her with him after he had shown his true colors. Feeling sick just being in the same room as him, she turned away from him, with no hesitation walked out the door, not turning to look back. Tom shrunk back against the wall and slid down to the floor, left all alone to pick up the pieces of the mess he had made. 

 

Y/N ran down the hall to the room, quickly shoving all her belongings into a bag, just wanting to leave as fast as possible. She paused, looking at the coat Tom had slung over her shoulders that cold night in the park. Picking it up, she took the time to slip it back on, breathing in Tom’s familiar scent as she dug her hands into the pocket. 

 

Her fingers grazed over something inside it, and she pulled out a withered leaf, watching as it crumbled to dust in her palm. It fell apart with the changing of the seasons, fell apart like Tom and Y/N, never meant to last. Shaking off the remnants of the leaf, she grabbed her bag again, fleeing the room. Running as she turned the corner, a body blocked her path. Someone spun her around, twisting her wrists behind her back forcefully. 

 

“Just the girl we were looking for.”

 

_ Adams _

 

As he moved closer, she flinched, wanting to run as far away as possible, feeling like she was suffocating in that closet all over again. 

 

“We?” she managed to whisper, looking down to avoid his eyes. He looked behind her, and she slowly turned her head to see who was holding her back. 

 

_ Harry _

 

“How fucking could you!” she spat, heat rising in her chest as she wrestled to break free of his hold. He lifted up the bottom of his gun in the air, ready to bring it down unto her skull.

 

“Lights out princess.”

 

And everything turned to black.


	8. finale

Lights swarmed in and out of her vision, a dimly lit light bulb the only source of sight in the room, with a thin string hanging loosely down to the floor. She blinked repeatedly, struggling to see past the blurry black dots that blocked her view. Where was this place? Random memories resurfaced to her conscious state, bombarding her with a wide range of emotions, all of them painful in their own way:

 

She locked eyes with him across the bar, secretly hoping he would strut over to where she sat, and he did. From that point, came the thrill and rush of being intimate with a dangerous man, that soon turned into fear of the inevitable. She thought she could push off the feeling, the worry that he would eventually disregard her and show his true alliance: to the mob. She couldn’t blame anyone except herself, they both knew it would happen; wishing something not to be true doesn’t mean shit in the end. It didn’t protect her from the heartache, and it didn’t protect her from being used as a pawn in a war for power. 

 

Her eyes managed to center on a figure stepping out of the shadows, as if to examine her more closely. She trailed her viewpoint from his sleek black boots up his slim body, landing on his mess of curls, the giveaway to his identity. Harry Holland, the twin brother, the insincere traitor. His heels clicked against the glossy floor, closer and closer until she cringed at his breath pricking over her burning cheeks. 

 

She opened her mouth to speak, but her lips cracked as if they were superglued together and smacked against each other. Her tongue peeked out and swept across her bottom lip to gain some slickness. 

 

“What is happening?” she croaked, strands of hair stuck to her forehead and she peered out from under them. 

 

“I’m sorry it has to be you, really am. It’s the only way, you have to break him and I have to be king.  _ I have to be king, _ ” Harry repeated, as if to reassure himself of the main goal at stake. He couldn’t let any emotions overwhelm the plan he had meticulously formulated. 

 

“Are you fucking stupid? I--- I left Tom already, he’s broken enough and I’m done with this family!” she snapped, shaking in the chair against the ties. Harry stepped forward, stomping on the top of her foot with his to keep her grounded. 

 

“No! That’s not enough, you can’t just leave, you could come back if you wanted. I have to kill you, I’m sorry there’s no other way!” Harry’s voice cracked with a bit of sympathy, but he shoved it aside, eyes fading into nothingness. Watching as he embraced the darkness that had built up more and more with each day, Y/N sucked in a deep breath. 

 

“Okay well then just fucking do it already!” she screamed, leaning as far as she could forward in the chair, head grazing the barrel of his gun. Shock and confusion were written over Harry’s features, and he backed away slightly, thinking it must be some trick. 

 

“What?”

 

“Well you said you made up your mind, right? Kill me, then,” she blankly stated, closing her eyes, waiting for him to pull the trigger. 

 

Harry tried to refocus, telling himself it was just another kill, it was second nature at this point. But it was different with her. She wasn’t deserving like the others; she was innocent. He shook his head of the thought, reminding himself he had sacrificed to much and he needed the power. 

 

He brought the barrel to rest against the direct middle of her forehead, finger trembling over the trigger. He had to do it, just do it already. 

 

A gunshot blasted through the room, not drawn out but quick. It could be missed in the blink of an eye, only a half a second long. Half a second that changed everything. 

 

***

 

Tom laid in between the covers, staring blankly through the tears in his eyes at the empty spot next to him. A couple times his hand reached out to touch her, but met nothing in return. He closed his eyes to imagine she was still there, to have anything to hold onto. 

 

His eyes flashed open at the jolting sound, the all to familiar boom of a gun, of a stolen life. But it was in his house, not on the streets, not in a room designed for that sort of thing. 

 

Throwing the sheets away from his pulsing body, he stumbled to the door, flinging it wide open. He knew the house better than anyone, every nook and cranny and Tom could pinpoint the exact room the shot came from. 

 

He arrived in less than a minute, hand shrunk away at the doorknob, terrified to turn it to the left and reveal perhaps his worst fears. Pushing the door open, Tom felt unprepared in every way. He could almost picture his Dad lying on the blood-stained carpet, seconds too late. 

 

When the door swung open, Tom fell to his knees, erupting in cries at the scene in front of him. It was beyond confusing, none of it made a bit of sense to him. Why did this have to happen again?

 

His fearful brown eyes followed the trail of blood that led up to Y/N, her head tilted back in a chair, hands tied behind it, blood splattered across her cheeks. His gaze fell to her feet, Harry’s body drowned in a pool of red that crept out further and further at an agonizingly steady pace. 

 

Tom’s feet couldn’t run fast enough, and he flipped Harry’s body over, splaying his hands over his wound with pressure. The bleeding didn’t slow, and the red stained his shaking palms. Harry’s eyes were cold, lifeless, with a hint of fear. He didn’t look like a man desperate for power, but a little boy scared to die. A quiet moan from the corner of the room drew Tom’s attention away from his dead brother, that he couldn’t save. Tom couldn’t save Dom and he couldn’t save Harry; why did he always have to get there seconds too late?

 

Sam crumpled against the wall, wedged in the corner clutching onto his bluish-purple bruises scattered throughout his skin. A gun fell from his fingertips to the floor, tears streaming down with it. This was Sam’s first and only kill, he had always been too soft to take another’s life. He was full of heart and human compassion, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. That’s what he had thought, but now the first person he killed was his own twin. 

 

“ I- I had to Tom. It--it was Harry, and I knew from the beginning but I just.. I just hoped I could make him change his mind and it could all go back to the way it was before. I even let you,  _ let you do this to me  _ because I thought maybe he could… maybe he would stop you, but he didn’t. I came back to tell you the truth, and I saw Harry... He was going to kill her and I had to stop him,” Sam rushed to speak as fast as his aching body would let him explain. 

 

Tom’s heart dove in his chest, horror and disbelief at what not only Harry had been planning, but how mercilessly he had treated Sam for no reason now. 

 

“Sam I.. I’m sorry, I never should have…” he began, about to wrap his arms around his true brother, to give him endless apologies until maybe Sam could forgive him. 

 

“Tom?” Y/N’s raspy voice broke the moment of silence. Tom spun around and raced to her side in relief, he had been too afraid to inspect her, too afraid she had suffered Harry’s same fate. His hands ran up her sides as sobs escaped the bottom of his throat, wiping away the blood on her pale cheeks with the back of his hand gently as possible. 

 

“You’re okay, princess,  _ you’re okay _ !” Tom exclaimed, relief bubbling over the top of him like a bottle of champagne. She managed a weak smile, before remembering there was more than just this moment, everything that had happened before. Nothing had really changed. 

 

“Is this it, then? Can I go now?” she muttered, not meeting Tom’s eyes. If she had met them, she would have seen the way they broke over and over. Harry’s death had made no difference, she still wanted to leave, to leave him. It was all for nothing and now Tom would be truly alone, broken trust with every person he held near to his heart. 

 

“Oh… yeah, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, removing his warms palms from her neck, the distance between them slowly eating him alive. As Tom moved out of the way, her eyes fell on Sam in the corner, gazing at her through his bruised eyelids in hope. He hoped she would run to him and hold him against her chest, taking away some, if not all, of the pain. 

 

Gulping in, she looked away, knowing she had to leave, that she couldn’t be what Sam needed her to be. Stepping up past Tom after he cut the ties, she walked over to the corner, and gave Sam’s wrist a soothing squeeze. Pulling apart after a mere second or two, she headed toward the door. 

 

Sam’s anger overtook him, in disbelief. He had killed his own twin brother to save her life, and she was just going to walk away from the mess untouched. She could walk away from him but he could never do the same. 

 

Opening the door, she fell back to the ground in horror. Adams charged in with an army of men, guns aimed at all three of them, forcing them to not move an inch. Of course nothing was ever that simple as walking away. 

 

“So what do we have here?” Adams chuckled, eyes scanning over the bloody mess and hopeless faces. Nobody answered him. 

 

Walking over to Harry’s corpse, he kicked an arm across his chest, “What a shame, could have had a great future together.”

 

“What do you want?” Tom tried to come across strong and unharmed, but the weakness was palpable and pitiful to Adams. Adams cocked his head to the side hungrily, loving all the power he controlled over the situation. 

 

“Well if you wanna cut straight to it, then alright. Give up your title, give up the Holland mob. All of it, and to me. I’ll spare your life just to prove to you I can be kind,” he flat out laid his intentions on the table. Tom’s lips shook; the mob was all he had left. He can’t give it up. He can’t. But what else was there left to give? Adams was bound to take what he wanted anway, what else could he do but agree? 

 

His head bobbed up and fell down, an acknowledgement of Tom’s only way out. 

 

_ “Fine.” _

 

“Well, fuck, that was easy,” he grinned widely from ear to ear, facing the door. However, he was unfinished, and spun back around on his heels.

 

“Dom would be so disappointed in you, Tommy,” he spat, throwing out one last jab, pouring salt on Tom’s exposed wounds. Gritting his teeth, Tom looked down, not taking the bait. Adams strutted over to Sam, crouching down to get face to face with him. 

 

“You know about me and Tom’s little agreement don’t you, buddy?” Adams cooed. Sam, still beat to shit, shook his head and glared through his swollen eyes. 

 

“Your dad gave up on the mob, and Tom begged me to not tell anyone the truth, I agreed for a truce between our men,” he proudly established, all his resentment built up for years against the Hollands finally released. 

 

“You’re a fucking liar! My dad would never give up on the mob, he’s a Holland and he was murdered!” Sam shouted, wincing at the pain in his lungs from the sharp intake of air. 

 

“Dom killed himself, We all saw it, especially Tom, isn’t that right?” Adams revealed, nodding over to Tom, who simply nodded back in recognition of the truth. There was no point in lying or preserving his dad’s credit anymore, there was no more mob to protect. 

 

Sam struggled to grasp the words, struggled with the fact that he had blindly believed a lie. Adams moved to leave, ushering his men out as he stepped in the doorway. 

 

“Wait!” Sam called, pulling him back in. Sam stumbled to his feet, slowly walking over to where Adams stood his ground. 

 

“I’m not done with the mob, so either kill me for it or let me join you,” Sam boldly confessed, not breaking eye contact with a shaken Adams. 

 

“Sam, no!” Y/N cried from the floor, not about to let him make such a mistake. He flippantly disregarded her, stepping even closer to Adams. Shrugging his shoulders, Adams held up the barrel to Sam’s chest, pausing. 

 

But then he flipped it over so the handle faced Sam, offering him a place in the mob. Whispers broke out from Adam’s men. Greedily, Sam snatched onto it, marveling at the shiny, cool metal. 

 

As quickly as he had reacted to Harry, Sam raised the barrel and aimed at Adams, not hesitating one bit as he pulled the trigger. Adams fell to his knees, eyes rolling backward as his limbs went limp. The men all dropped their guns and raised their arms in surrender, taking a step back. Sam blew a gush of air over the tip of the gun, as if brushing aside his second kill like it meant nothing. Y/N’s eyes flew over to Tom’s, hoping for an explanation. 

 

“Sam… Sam is king now,” Tom legitimized, and she gasped, shifting her sight back to Sam standing above the two of them. 

 

Stepping over Adams body, Sam bent over Harry, placing a sweet kiss on his forehead. Turning back around to face Tom, a silent pause filled with anticipation crossed between them. Sam tossed the gun at Tom, who caught it with one hand raised in the air. 

 

“I don’t want it. I wasn’t built for this, but you are,” Sam let go of the title, refusing to claim it as his own. 

 

Tom fingered with the gun in his hands, a sense of fulfillment arising in his chest. The mob was still his, and only his. Maybe this time he could make it better, make it different. No pressure from his dad’s legacy to follow in his footsteps, Tom could create his own path. He could rebuild the Holland mob from the ground up in his own image. Looking over to her as if for permission, a slow smile crept over her pink lips and she rested a hand over his shoulder blade. She had no idea what to do or what to think, except watch and see how Tom handled it this time around. 

 

Sam spoke the final words, the final conclusion to the wild rollercoaster as he too placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder. 

 

_ “Make Mum proud, Tom.” _

 


End file.
